Has anyone ever knit or crocheted something for you? If so, know that that person must love you. Knitting a sweater or blanket can take weeks or longer.

But let’s take the process back a little farther. What about artisans who make yarn? During the quiet at-home days of the coronavirus pandemic, many of these craftspeople were all tied up . . . inventing new types and colors of string.

“Dyeing is chemistry,” says Samantha Myhre. Ms. Myhre owns RavensWood Fibre Co. in Nova Scotia, Canada. “Although the process we use is a simple, heat-and-acid-vinegar process to set the colors, the chemistry behind it involves the binding of a color molecule to a wool molecule. More or less molecules, more or less intense color.”

Ms. Myhre sells her yarn online and at local markets. Which of her yarns would you like to buy? Sea Glass, a blend of dreamy water hues? Fireflies, with starry night sky colors? Or maybe you’d choose Autumn Drive, a combination of gold, rust, green, and brown that evokes a ride through a fall forest.

She found that using town tap water created unpredictable colors. She turned to well water instead. Still, yarn doesn’t always turn out the same each time. More rain means more minerals in the water. “More minerals mean my reds may be more orange, my blacks break and go to gold. It’s crazy,” she says.

Ms. Myhre has a good group of reliable, “stable” colors. But she also has what the dye world refers to as OOAKs: One of a Kinds.

Different fibers take dye in different ways. Alpaca fur doesn’t absorb as much color, so alpaca yarn tends to turn out pastel. Nylon and silk soak up dye. Some dyers are exploring other types of wool too: yak, cashmere, and Australian Polwarth sheep. One yarn maker in San Francisco, California, blends plastic water bottles with merino to make a soft, chunky yarn. A sweater made from plastic water bottles? That’s a real OOAK!

Why? Textiles are a gift from God for beauty, creativity, coverage, and warmth.